


Sales Pitch

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:20:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: Hartley, post one night stand with Captain Cold.





	Sales Pitch

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, prouves, this is your fault.

If there's one thing Hartley despises more than Harrison Wells, it's assuming. In his experience, assumptions lead to the worst situations. Assumptions had him disowned; they earned him the malice of every Rathaway and absolutely no sympathy.

Right now, Mick Rory's got assumption all over his face.

Hartley's not talking about the  _got laid_ part. That's just fact, one Hartley blatantly flaunts with the parka on his shoulders and loose-fitting blue boxers on his ass. He's talking about Rory's little once-over. This may've been a one night stand, but Hartley is  _not_ some random boytoy, and while he'd definitely be willing to get on his knees for those muscles, he'd rather have an intelligent conversation about it first.

So Hartley glares at him. To his consternation, all Rory does is snort and turn back to the Keurig. He also switches his mug for a Kermit one. Hartley gets it. Still juvenile.

He explores the pantry―because he's damn well not taking the bus on an empty stomach―waiting for Rory to say "twink."

Rory says, "Way t'go, kid."

Hartley peeks out from behind the door. "Excuse me?"

Rory salutes him with his mug. "Snart never sleeps past nine. Even for a pretty face like yours."  _There_ it is. "Dunno what you did, but." He takes a swig of coffee. "Kudos."

Huh. Well, Rory's known for his unpredictability.

Hartley smiles slyly. "I'm a man of  _many_ talents."

Rory chuckles low in his throat. "Bet you are."

_Yes please_ , Hartley's hindbrain whimpers.  


...it's been a while.

"Cereal's top shelf," Rory says, padding towards the living room, "Rogues're gonna come by soon. You don't wanna stick around, better get out before noon."

Hartley snorts. "As if I'd stay long."

"Got somewhere to be?"

Captain Cold, Hartley vaguely realizes, looks damn good in an over-sized sweater.

"You wearin' pants?" Rory calls.

"You don't care either way," Len replies, to which Rory grunts. He turns his smirk back to Hartley. "So you got plans today? And after you left me  _cold_ and alone. Not very polite."

Hartley is a genius, but he still can't figure out how Leonard Snart makes puns sound so hot. Or, perhaps, cool.

Damn.

Raising an eyebrow, Hartley carries a box of Apple Jacks to the counter, saying, "It was a one night stand, wasn't it? Not that I'd object to a second night, but this is usually how it goes."

Len prowls―full on _prowls_ ―closer. "If it'd been with some faceless bar hop, maybe. Not you."

"How sweet," Hartley says, batting his eyelashes.

"You're the Pied Piper, Hartley. You're a tech genius, you know how to plan things out. See the details, piece 'em together."

"So your dick was a sales pitch?"

Rory snorts his coffee.

Len tilts his head. "Wasn't plannin' on that part, but if it'll show my  _assets_ , then why not? I'm an opportunist."

"So am I."

"That you are. How about it? Wanna join my Rogues?"

Hartley steps around him to the fridge. Snart's Rogues are good at what they do. Plus they go against Cisco's tech and Wells' favorite BDSM model. (The deceased Wells, anyway. Finally, the universe does something right.) They seem like a close-knit group, too, which isn't Hartley's style, but barely getting by's taught him that having a safety net isn't a bad idea.

He pours his cereal. "You and Rory stole that painting from my parents."

" _Fire and Ice_ ," Len replies.

"Classy." Hartley pauses. "I'm no side piece, and I'm not a tool."

"Obviously." Len sounds almost affronted. Good.

Hartley caps the milk. "This parka's too comfy anyway. Where'd you get it?"

"eBay," Len drawls, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. "Welcome to the Rogues, Piper."

"Oo, I like that. You should scream that next time."

Rory's coffee splashes out his nose.

 

Len  _does_ end up screaming it.

As if there was any doubt.


End file.
